


Under The Light of a Thousand Stars

by amemorymaze



Series: Lumière [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1891662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amemorymaze/pseuds/amemorymaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe hooking up with Kurt Hummel wasn't the best idea when Blaine was just trying to find his footing at this place. (a skank!kurt au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Light of a Thousand Stars

When Blaine wakes up, head spinning and stomach turning, it takes a few moments for him to realise where exactly he is; surrounded by all this unfamiliar decor. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few minutes, taking deep breaths, and  _god_ does his head hurt.

It takes Blaine a few more minutes to realise that he’s naked.

He thinks back to last night and groans, as hazy memories of smoke, bright lights and heavy music filter back into Blaine’s mind. He remembers alcohol; lots of it, and he remembers strong hands gripping his waist as they sway to the music.

Blaine can remember whispered words in between long kisses; hot and heavy. One hand threaded in soft pink and brown hair, with the other resting underneath a black shirt - skin on skin. Blaine remembers giggling and stumbling as they find a room that’s more private, recalls the tension in the air going thick when the door closes behind them.

Memories of being pushed up against the wall come to the forefront of his mind, lips finding his as one hand falls onto his waist and the other slides into the back pocket of his jeans.

He can remember every detail of the night, soft hands in his and lips kissing every part of his body.

And it would’ve been perfect too - if not for the two simple facts that:

a. He’s now alone and naked in a bed in a strangers house.

b. The boy was Kurt Hummel, a skank complete with piercings, tattoo’s and pink hair, and he is Blaine Anderson, new kid at McKinley, trying to find his footing in that place, with his one and only friend being Rachel Berry who he has known for years.

They couldn’t be more different.

  
  
  


He meets up with Rachel before school the next Monday, linking his arm through hers before they climb the steps to the entrance, she catches his hand in hers and squeezes it in support.

When she’d rung him early Saturday morning as he was climbing the stairs of his house, he’d answered with his head throbbing, “Rachel-” he began.

“What happened? Oh my god, did you kiss? What was it like? Wait, were you drunk? Did you have sex?!” Rachel said down the phone line in one breath.

And when Blaine stayed silent, not knowing how exactly to phrase his answer to the question, she screeched, “You totally did! Blaine Anderson! I can’t believe this. You lost your virginity to  _Kurt Hummel_.”

“Yes, Rachel,” Blaine said with his head in his hands, cheeks flaring red. “I am well aware - I was there.”

Rachel had just laughed, “Was it good? Was he good? Tell me  _everything_.”

“Rach, it was - surprisingly amazing,” he breathed out, “I mean, it was hot and sexy and kind of awkward, but it was  _fun_. I think, I don’t know, I didn’t expect that,” Blaine tweaked his bowtie, just to give his hands something to do.

Rachel hummed, “But, Kurt Hummel? I don’t understand…”

“Neither do I, not really,” Blaine sighed, “I know he probably won’t talk to me again, but…” Blaine trails off, going quiet.

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” Blaine said softly, “not at all.”

And as much as he doesn’t regret it, he does dread the fact that the entire school probably knows by now - that that new Anderson kid is gay.

So he squeezes Rachel’s hand back, grateful that he has a friend in this place.

  
  
  


Blaine underestimated the power of school gossip. He should’ve known that the whole school would find out sooner rather than later, really; it’s not every weekend that the new kid and skank drunkenly hook up at a party. Blaine had expected a few days of peace before the news broke out so what he was more worried about at first was the fact that he might see Kurt walking the halls of McKinley and that Blaine would make a complete fool of himself.

But now, he realises, that Kurt isn’t in any of Blaine’s classes for them to actually see him eachother, and he really should’ve been much more worried about the students of McKinley.

Sitting at his seat in math class, third lesson of the day and Blaine is already sick of all the questions he’s getting. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want people sticking their nose into his life, he doesn’t want all the murmurs behind his back and the balls of paper thrown at him with crude drawings on them. He doesn’t want to have to deal with this.

And so when he gets out of class before lunch to a text from Rachel telling him she won’t be at lunch because “ _Finn Hudson wants to talk to me, Blaine! You understand, right?_ ”, Blaine decides to forgo the canteen and find somewhere else to eat his lunch.

Closing the door behind him to what he thinks is an empty classroom, Blaine breathes a sigh of relief, knowing that there is no way he would be able to brave the canteen on his own - not today.

“Blaine?” A voice says, causing Blaine to spin around, hand on his chest as his heart beats rapidly.

“Oh, Kurt! Hi!” Blaine says, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck as he notices Kurt sitting at a desk with a sketch book in front of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I thought this room would be empty. I didn’t really want to brave the canteen today,” he pauses for a moment, shrugging his shoulders weakly, “It’s okay, I’ll just go - find somewhere else to read my book and eat my lunch.”

“Stay,” Kurt says, surprising Blaine, “You’re much better company than what I thought was going to be two horny teenagers trying to take advantage of an empty classroom.”

Blaine laughs, trying desperately not to think of Friday night and the taste of Kurt’s lips.

  
  
  


By Friday, he finds himself in tears in the bathroom during lunch, sick of the teasing and mocking from his classmates. Fed up of having to pretend he doesn’t care and that it’s not getting to him when it is, it  _really_ is.

He allows himself this moment of weakness, gripping the edges of the sink as he tries and fails to hold the tears in. He’s just so sick of these people thinking that they can treat him like this, treat him like he’s not a person and that he doesn’t have feelings.

When the door slams open, Blaine frantically wipes at his eyes, realising too late that the action would make it that much more obvious that he’s been crying.

The footsteps falter and Blaine takes a deep  breath before preparing himself for more taunts.

“Blaine?”

That is most definitely not who Blaine had expected to see in the bathroom during lunch break. He takes a look over his shoulder to see a boy standing there, wearing skinny, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt.

“What are you doing?” Kurt asks, his eyes filled with what Blaine thinks is sympathy.

Blaine sighs, “N-nothing.”

“Are-”

Blaine straightens his back and holds his head high, “If you’re here to just make fun of me, don’t bother, okay? I’m pretty sure the rest of the school has got your back covered.”

“I-” Kurt pauses, eyes hardening slightly, “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine says, pushing his glasses back up his nose as his shoulders slump in defeat.

“Well, firstly, I came in here to smoke because it’s really fucking cold outside and the smoke alarm in here doesn’t work,” Kurt says, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it, “Secondly, I really wouldn’t benefit in any way from upsetting you, if anything, it’ll mean that I’ll never get to fuck you again and that would be a shame.”

Blaine splutters, his cheeks turning bright red as Kurt continues, “Look, Anderson, at the end of the day, out of most of these people at this shithole, you’re gonna be one of the only ones who make it out,” Kurt takes a drag of the cigarette between his fingers, “And whatever happens between the two of us really shouldn’t be any of their business. You shouldn’t give a fuck what they think.”

“...Oh,” Blaine says quietly, the still blush staining his cheeks, but this time for a different reason, Blaine takes a deep breath, remembering why he was here in the first place but smiles at Kurt’s words and says, “Yeah. You’re right, I guess.”

Kurt huffs out a laugh, “I’m always right, Anderson.”

Blaine laughs just as the bell rings and picks his bag up from where he had dumped it on the floor.

Just as Blaine is about to leave, Kurt says, “Hey, you gonna be at the party on saturday?”

Blaine just shrugs, “Um… I probably not.”

Kurt shrugs, “Well, I’ll miss you there.”

  


 

 

From then on, they become (kind of, maybe) friends, with small smiles and nods as they pass in the hallways. Small conversations by lockers doors about nothing but to Blaine it’s everything.

  
  


Blaine’s used to it by now, especially after a week of people looking down at him and cracking jokes at his expense. He’s used to the disdainful stares and condescending looks he’s given and he tries, desperately, not to care; he tells himself he doesn’t care what they think.

As Blaine makes his way through the crowded, overheated, stuffy house, he holds his head high (well, as high as he can with Rachel dragging him through the crowds of people). A few heads turn to look him up and down before they’re looking away, sneers on their faces, but Blaine can only glance as Rachel whisks him into the kitchen.

She pours him a drink and he clutches it in his hands, taking big gulps as he lets Rachel ramble on and on about tonight being  _the night_.

So Blaine lets her chatter away as he drinks his drinks, until her attention has moved on to someone else and she leaves him standing in the middle of a kitchen of someone’s house who he doesn’t even know, alone.

  
  


 

Making his way outside and away from the stuffy, smoke-filled house, Blaine holds back tears,   stumbling out of the down the path. He shouldn’t have gotten drunk - not around these people and especially when there is only one person here that he actually trusts.

The dull thudding of the music can still be heard from the house as Blaine takes a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs and clearing his head but only slightly. However, as he reaches the end of the path, he stumbles, managing to catch himself on his hands.

“Woah,” he hears, along with footsteps on the pavement before hands help him up, “Fuck, you okay?”

Blaine just nods his head, keeping it down as tears fall down his cheeks.

When he looks up, it’s to Kurt’s concerned face, “Hey, hey,” he says, guiding Blaine to sit on the wall outside the house, “It’s okay, don’t cry.”

Blaine shivers in his thin t-shirt and says, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s okay. Here,” Kurt replies, taking off his jacket and putting it over Blaine’s shoulders, “What happened?”

Blaine shrugs, “Just... people.”

Kurt smiles at Blaine sympathetically, “They’re all fucking assholes, right?”

Blaine hiccups a laugh, “Definitely.”

“I thought you weren’t going to come tonight,” Kurt says, “What happened?”

“I got dragged into it by Rachel because apparently the only way to get past the hate is to face it full on. But then I was promptly ditched with a bottle of rum as soon as I arrived,” Blaine’s voice begins to rise in pitch as he speaks, “And now I’m drunk and have to somehow find my way home, even though I’m not supposed to go home tonight because I’m apparently staying at Rachel’s but I don’t know where she is. It’s going to take me at least an hour to walk home that’s without me getting lost and I just- I’m rambling on to someone who probably just wants me to shut up so I’m just gonna go.”

He gets up, tripping over his own feet as he walks down the path and Kurt just stares and watches for a few seconds before grabbing his bottle of Jack Daniels and chasing after him.

“Blaine,” Kurt says, walking next to him, “You can’t walk home alone like this.”

Blaine just shrugs and crosses his arms, “Whatever.”

So the two boys walk together in silence, away from the party and masses of people and towards somewhere quieter and calmer. Neither of them speak as as the stars shine above them.

  
  


 

They somehow end up in the park by Blaine’s house, laying on the slightly damp grass as they watch the stars above them, sharing the bottle of Jack Daniels, getting drunker and drunker.

“Now this is much better than that fucking party,” Kurt says, laughing.

Blaine hums in agreement, trying not to stare at the way Kurt’s throat moves as he takes a gulp from the bottle. He tries not to think of that moment a week ago, under the covers when he pressed kisses down the line of his throat.

“You want some more?” Kurt says, holding the bottle out to him.

Blaine grabs it greedily from Kurt’s hands, their fingers brushing. Then there’s the slow burn as the liquid goes down his throat, making his eyes sting slightly.

They continue to pass the bottle between each other until it’s empty and Blaine’s eyes are beginning to go hazy and his vision is starting to blur as the alcohol catches up with him.

“Are you wearing contacts?” Kurt asks, causing Blaine to turn his head to look over at Kurt, who seems to be studying his face.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, “Uh, I don’t usually, obviously-”

“Huh, I do like the glasses though.”

“Thanks,” Blaine replies, blushing slightly.

“Also, your hair!” Kurt says, reaching over to thread a hand through the loose curls atop Blaine’s head, “Why don’t you do it like this everyday?”

“Uh…” Blaine says, “I don’t really like my curls that much.”

Blaine closes his eyes as Kurt plays with the curls, tangling his hand through the hair, he can feel Kurt moving closer towards him. And when Blaine opens his eyes, he  finds Kurt hovering over him. Their faces are inches from each other and their breath is tangling in the cold air. Blaine can feel it against his lips just before Kurt closes the gap, pressing his lips to Blaine’s. Kurt’s other hand tangle in Blaine curls, tugging slightly as he opens his mouth slightly, the taste of whiskey on Kurt’s tongue.

Blaine moves his hands so that they rest on Kurt’s lower back, the liquid confidence thrumming through his veins causing him to slide his hands underneath Kurt’s shirt, running his hands up the soft curves of Kurt’s back.

Kurt gasps as Blaine’s cold hands touch his skin, making him bite down softly on Blaine’s bottom lip. Blaine moans quietly into Kurt’s mouth, kissing him harder, pulling Kurt’s top lip into his mouth as one of Kurt’s hands stray down to cup his jaw.

Throwing one leg over Blaine - straddling him - Kurt pulls away slightly, his cheeks pink; a mixture of cold and arousal. Their noses are touching as Blaine gives a small smile, before he pushes Kurt over in a bold move. Turning them until Blaine’s on top and in between Kurt’s legs, they kiss harder and deeper as Kurt moves one hand down Blaine’s body, tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans.

They carry on kissing and kissing and kissing, the alcohol causing everything to go by in a haze of lips and warmth and whiskey.

  
  


 

As he sits at the kitchen counter the next morning with a bacon sandwich in front of him, head and stomach spinning, Blaine groans.

“Well,” Marie Anderson says, spinning around to face Blaine across from the island, “If you hadn’t of gotten so drunk last night, you wouldn’t be feeling like this, honey.”

“I know, mom, you don’t need to lecture me,” Blaine replies, forcing himself to take a bite of his sandwich because well, people always say that greasy foods help hangovers, right?

He tries to piece together the night before; lying on the grass and drinking a bit too much whiskey. Stumbling down the dark street, shoulders brushing every so often and Blaine grabbing Kurt’s hand as he chatters on and on about complete nonsense and- Blaine groans again but this time not because of the hangover.

“So, who was that boy you were with last night?”

Blaine snaps his head up, regretting it instantly because the room swims a little, “W-what?”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetie,” Marie says, a smile blossoming on her face, “I saw you kissing him at the end of the driveway at about 2am.”

Blaine cheeks burn red, “Mom! You’re supposed to pretend you didn’t see anything.”

“Hey,” she says, sitting down on a stool next to Blaine and cups his chin, “I saw that boy and although he’s not exactly the sort of boy I expected you to be ‘involved with’, I just want to make sure you’re happy - that my little baby boy is happy.”

Blaine smiles shyly and says, “I am, I promise.” Before swatting at his mothers hand and shoving the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

“So,” she says, “what’s his name? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?”

“Mom!” Blaine says, his cheeks flaring red again, “His name is Kurt and that’s all I’m saying right now.”  

He gets up, puts his plate in the dishwasher before heading upstairs, his mom shouting at him, “You should bring him over sometime! I want to meet this boy!”

“Not going to happen, mom!”

  


 

 

When Blaine finally gets round to checking his phone later that evening as he gets into bed, there’s three missed calls; all from Rachel Berry, and five texts; four of which are from Rachel Berry.

The last, however, is from an unknown number.

_So I’m pretty sure you’re mom just saw us making out on your driveway, have fun with that in the morning._

Blaine just smiles at his phone before going to sleep.


End file.
